


Lemon And Sugar

by Salmon_Pink



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Threesome Thursday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick's got the taste of lemonade on his tongue, the heat of them all around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lemon And Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Threesome Thursday](http://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=threesome+thursday&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&commit=Sort+and+Filter&user_id=Salmon_Pink).

Garth makes a soft noise when Dick backs him up against the wall. They’re in the shadows here, hiding between utility buildings, and the hum of machinery can’t quite drown out the tinny music and excited chatter that flows along the pier just beyond their little makeshift alcove. 

It’s not exactly private. Sure, it’s somewhat out of the way, but there are enough people milling along the waterfront to make the possibility that somebody could wander past any moment and catch them like this into a very real danger. 

Dick doesn’t care. The idea of waiting until they can find somewhere more discreet seems _impossible_.

He leans in, inhales the scent of Garth’s neck. It seems to cliché to say that Garth smells like the ocean, but it’s the truth. The fragrance of it is always familiar, salty and fresh and _Garth_ , but right now there’s that new layer above it.

Lemon and sugar, tickling Dick’s senses. 

Darting out his tongue to taste seems as natural as breathing.

Tart and bitter, with syrupy sweetness over the top and salt underneath. Dick’s moan is possibly a little too loud, a little too earnest.

Garth’s chest is rising and falling rapidly against his own where they’re pressed so tightly together. His t-shirt is still damp, probably rubbing moisture over Dick’s own clothes, but that’s just another thing Dick doesn’t care about right now. Not when he’s concentrating on licking a path up Garth’s neck, dragging his tongue over sticky, drying sugar.

Garth shivers, and Dick’s fingers flex around his wrists. 

The pin he has Garth in is an illusion; Garth is strong enough to push Dick away easily. But they both know he won’t, and instead Garth tilts his neck, allows Dick better access.

“God, Roy is -” Garth mutters distractedly.

“A genius?” an amused voice purrs from behind Dick.

“I was going to say a _jerk_ ,” Garth grumbles, and then gasps when Dick nibbles at his earlobe.

“I don’t know,” Roy replies, and Dick can hear the smirk in his voice. “I think Dick would agree with the whole ‘genius’ thing.”

Dick doesn’t respond, just keeps licking along the shell of Garth’s ear.

Of course, Roy _is_ a jerk, but they’ve known that for years. Plus, he’s _their_ jerk. Apparently he’s never going to grow out of his little so-called ‘joke’ of throwing drinks at Garth’s face at every opportunity and claiming it’s to save him from dehydration here on land.

Dick usually just rolls his eyes and leaves them to it. He knows it winds Garth up, but Roy isn’t going to stop until Garth tells him to with some real authority. Or possibly punches Roy in the face. Dick has no intention of playing go-between for them.

But tonight, when Roy decided to attack Garth with a generous torrent of lemonade across his face and chest, Dick didn’t roll his eyes and walk away. 

Because tonight Garth happens to be wearing a white t-shirt.

It’s not like Dick hasn’t seen Garth shirtless before. He has, in fact, seen him entirely naked and twisted up in all sorts of interesting positions for Dick’s viewing pleasure.

So he doesn’t actually know why the sight of those light brown nipples pebbling to hardness under the wet and now transparent t-shirt had him freezing on the spot, blood rushing to his suddenly half-hard cock.

Maybe it’s because he hasn’t really seen Garth much recently, with everything that’s been going on in Atlantis. That’s seems like a sensible explanation.

Or maybe it’s _really_ something to do with the way several women’s eyes lit up at the display. Maybe it’s something to do the wolf-whistle that pierced the air, and the way Garth’s flustered expression melted into a shy smile.

Dick doesn’t actually think of himself as possessive, but he has to admit tonight has provided him with plenty of evidence to the contrary.

He feels Roy moving behind him in the cramped space more than he hears him, and then there’s body heat and pressure as Roy drapes himself across Dick’s back. His breath is warm against the back of Dick’s neck, hands tight as they grip Dick’s hips.

“Bet he tastes amazing, huh?” he whispers hotly, nosing at Dick’s hair.

Dick distantly hears himself growl against Garth’s ear in response, and Garth makes a unidentifiable noise, stretched out over several vowels, hips twitching firmly against Dick’s own.

“Good idea, Gillhead,” Roy rumbles, voice reverberating through Dick’s back, and then his hips are rolling against Dick’s ass, slow but insistent. It rocks Dick against Garth, and even through two layers of denim the sensation of their crotches pressing together still makes Dick’s blood spark with electricity.

Garth gasps again, arms trembling a little, making Dick squeeze his wrists reflexively. He licks at Garth’s neck, groaning softly as Roy rocks against him, grinds him and Garth together. The taste of lemonade is a little fainter now, he has to work harder to chase it. He seals his lips against the skin just behind Garth’s ear and sucks hard enough to get a choked wail that Garth can’t quite bite back quickly enough.

“ _Fuck_ yeah,” Roy hisses behind him, and his hands slide from Dick’s waist, reach beyond him to grab Garth’s hips. He’s thrusting against Dick’s ass harder now, still at that same languid pace. Like they have all the time in the world, never mind that they could be discovered any minute.

It’s like sensory overload. The high and breathy noises Garth’s making, his scent filling Dick’s mind, the heat and weight of Roy’s body blanketing him. Roy’s panting now, every breath ruffling Dick’s hair, making shivers dance up his spine. It’s like being _surrounded_ , overtaken. 

And through it all is the taste of ocean and lemonade under Dick’s tongue as he sucks and sucks.

He’s sweating beneath his clothes, even though the evening air is cool, and he can feel himself leaking under his jeans, sticky and needy. His toes curl in his sneakers on Roy’s every thrust, head spinning, mindless with how damn good he feels.

Garth trembles when Dick stops sucking bruises into his neck, trying to arch his hips up, but Dick and Roy’s combined weight means he can’t really get the movement he’s seeking. Nearly all traces of lemonade are gone now, just the taste of skin, but Dick laves his tongue across Garth’s throat again and again, until it’s shining and slick.

When Dick presses his tongue into Garth’s ear, Garth yelps and bucks so hard that Dick has to drop his hold on Garth’s wrists and grip his shirt instead, has to hold on and let Roy’s weight brace him as he rides the almost _frantic_ movement of Garth’s hips.

Garth’s keening almost constantly, soft but _desperate_ , and Dick groans and rocks forward and back, forward and back, wishing he were naked, wishing this could last forever. Roy bites lightly at his neck, his shoulder, grunting with every roll of his hips, and the sound of it vibrates through Dick’s chest.

He fucks into Garth’s ear with his tongue, timing it between each thrust of Roy’s hips, and Garth’s squirming against him, whimpering and trembling. Gasping, “Please, please, _please_.”

And then he’s crying out, loud enough that anyone could hear them, but it doesn’t matter because Garth’s coming for them, back arched and head thudding back against the wall as he shakes and whines.

“ _Shiiit_ ,” Roy groans, and then he’s surging forward, crushing Dick between them as he grips Garth’s hair and kisses him over Dick’s shoulder, deep and wet and hungry. Garth’s still making tiny hurt-sounding noises but Roy’s swallowing them down eagerly, and Dick presses his lips to Garth’s shoulder and shudders.

Roy pulls back with a groan, and then his hands are back on Dick’s waist. Urging him back slightly where he’s still trying to thrust up against Garth, but Dick’s still clinging to his fistfuls of damp, white t-shirt so Roy can’t move him far. But it’s far enough to get his hand between them, to undo Dick’s fly and slide his hand under jeans and boxers and Dick whines as Roy wraps a hand around him and begins to stroke.

One of Garth’s arms wraps around Dick’s shoulders, and Dick closes his eyes and surrenders to it. It’s flashes of sensation from then on, rattling through his system. Roy’s calluses and the way he always knows how to touch Dick, how to pull him apart. Garth shifting and then Roy’s heartfelt moan, the movement of Garth’s other arm that means he’s giving Roy the same treatment that Dick’s receiving.

Hot-cold pleasure and familiar warmth and the taste of lemon on his tongue, and Dick comes with a shout that’s barely muffled into Garth’s neck, jerking into Roy’s hand, explosions dancing behind his closed eyelids.

Garth presses gentle kisses along Dick’s hairline, his arm squeezing Dick tightly when Roy slips his hand free, until Dick’s mind starts to feel at least partway functional again, and then he gently disentangles them. 

Dick watches, still a little dazed, as Garth withdraws his hand from Roy’s jeans, and Dick was so swept up in his own pleasure that he didn’t even hear Roy’s orgasm, but Roy’s grinning like the cat who got the cream.

“Told you I was a genius,” Roy smirks, and Dick’s still too fucked-out to give him the punch in the arm he deserves.

“Ummm,” Garth mutters, holding his hand in front of him with an embarrassed look. Roy’s come is shiny and wet on his fingers, even in the dim light. “Anybody got a tissue?”

“No need,” Roy shrugs, and then turns to Dick with an expression that’s dark and heated and makes another aftershock of sensation shoot through him. “You know how much Dick likes to _taste_.”

He steps closer, and in the tight space it’s easy for him to crowd Dick back against a wall.

His own fingers are slick with Dick’s come.

“You gonna open for me, Dick?” Roy whispers, voice hushed and pure sex. “Gonna lick me clean?” 

Dick shudders, eyes fluttering closed, head falling back, mouth opening obediently.

Roy’s right, after all.

Dick _does_ like to taste.


End file.
